


Shiver

by valiantfindekano



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantfindekano/pseuds/valiantfindekano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Deep Roads are cold. Hawke has complaints and Anders has a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiver

It might not be nighttime when they finally settle down to rest. Hawke has been in his share of unpleasant undercities in the last few years, down mouldering tunnels and into festering corners of Darktown, and yet nothing is quite so disorienting as the Deep Roads. Not even comparably. 

Varric and Anders both warned him, and Hawke has caught them quietly sharing a laugh at his expense on more than one occasion.

“It’s just that you’re walking around with your mouth open wider than a--” 

Bethany had interrupted Varric with a polite cough.

Awe aside, what he had misjudged was the warmth—or rather, the lack of it. It’s a creeping kind of cold, not biting like the snow storms that used to hit Lothering in the winter, but a chill that gradually numbs Hawke’s fingers.

“Can’t we get a fire?” he mumbles while the rest of the party shuffles about their camp. He’s not going to sleep well if he freezes to death.

“Do you see anyone carrying firewood?” comes Varric’s reply.

Bethany gives him a sympathetic look and a better answer. “It would be easy to start one,” she says, and sends a quick shower of sparks into the air. “But he’s right; we need fuel, and I guess they agreed not to waste caravan space with wood.”

It isn’t long after they settle underneath their blankets that Hawke notices Bethany shivering. His hesitation lasts for only a moment before he’s taking his own blanket it and laying it gently on top of hers. She mumbles something; a word of thanks, maybe, or an insistence that she doesn’t need it, which would be a lie.

It’s not in Hawke's nature to give in without a few more complaints, though. Anders is giving him a concerned look as he settles back into his corner, and Hawke can’t help himself. “Don’t you mages have any spells to make it more bearable?”

Anders stirs, and there’s still enough light that Hawke can see him biting his lip. But then he holds out the corner of the blanket he’s huddled under; an offer, apparently. “We don’t need spells. Here.”

Somehow this seems like a trap. Hawke narrows his eyes—Anders isn't wrong, and sharing a space will make it warmer, but he's also not sure he wants to be accused of  _cuddling._ But then a stirring of a breeze sets the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

The idea of warmth is too tempting. “You just wanted someone to protect you from the monsters, didn’t you,” he accuses as he shuffles into place next to Anders. 

The mage gives a tiny laugh. “You caught me,” he replies, his breath touching dangerously close to Hawke’s ear. It's pleasantly warm, and Hawke's reply is suddenly caught in his throat.


End file.
